Funeral
by januaryfreeze92
Summary: Just a short oneshot of what Spock's mother's funeral could have been like. SU Spock x Nyota Uhura


**Hey, all.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Star Trek or the characters. The only thing I own is this fic are the letters and my version of a Vulcan funeral, because I couldn't find the details on memory alpha.**

_**Bibi = Grandmother**_

**Just a short oneshot of what might have happened. Not much of a point, to be honest... But yeah here it is. Maybe in the future I'll use it in a longer fic.**

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The skies opened and down came the rain, as if the angels above wanted to weep for the precious life lost.

The man now standing stiff as a board beside me would usually call this observation illogical, but it was times like these when even the most logical needed something higher than themselves. He stared strait ahead at the scene unfolding before us, his expression unwavering and stoic.

"You don't have to watch this," I whispered to him, fearing my words were muffled by the downpour.

"Yes, Uhura, I feel I must," Spock said, his lips barely forming the words as he observed the Vulcan ritual unfolding before us. Normally a ceremony such as this would have caught my interest, but my attention was solely on the one whose arm was looped through mine.

In an odd way I felt hurt that he used my surname, but I stopped the pity parade right there - today wasn't about me. Today was for him and all who remained of his family to mourn for the loss of his mother. I would be strong for him.

Although it was a private ceremony, there were less people than I expected. Sarek stood only a few feet from us, his face just as expressive as his son's. Behind us there were a small handful of Vulcans and Starfleet members. I dared not to look behind me to see if they were still here, but I thought I remembered seeing the Captain and Leonard here - although whether Spock felt obligated to invite them or truly wanted them to attend I knew not.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't notice when the wood was set on fire until Spock's face lit up in an orange hue. I turned my eyes to the scene before me. Of course her body wasn't there, having disappeared on planet Vulcan along with the 6 billion others, but the funeral was to properly put her soul to rest. Before the fire was a picture of her, one that she insisted Spock bring with him when he left for Star Fleet Academy, although he assured her he would never forget her face. In the fire I could see the small stack of letters Spock had brought crumble and burn to ash, along with anything else the Vulcans could salvage that could be symbolic of her.

I brought my other hand to his elbow and squeezed, the smallest thing I could do to just show him that I was there for him. It surprised me when his other hand covered mine, an action he would usually not so openly take in public. Even having our arms looped together was different enough.

"Thank you," he whispered to me and I could swear I thought his eyes were wet.

The elders stopped chanting and the guests started to leave, quickly fleeing in the direction of their hovercars and other methods of transportation. I stayed beside him, my wet hair sticking to my back.

"I will need a moment," he told me, gently taking his arm from around mine and approaching the fire as I watched, his father joining him. I felt a hand on my back.

"How is he doing?" Jim asked me, keeping his voice low.

"He just lost his mother," I responded sympathetically with a shrug, "How would you be doing?"

Leonard just sighed, shaking his head sadly. He wisely didn't make any stupid comments on Spock's show of emotions, and for that I was grateful.

"We'll see you at the hoverbus, it leaves in 15," he said when Spock turned to us and they faded away into the corners of my mind.

Sarek kindly raised his hand in acknowledgement of me before heading in the other direction. I raised my hand in return.

_Live Long and Prosper._

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" I asked him softly, gently taking his cool hand in mine.

"I was taught to accept that death is the end of a cycle. To welcome it," he told me as we walked in the direction of the bus stop, "But with that I also feel pain over my mother's death. I am not accepting it the way I was brought up to."

"Everybody handles death differently, especially when it is a loved one who leaves us," I assured him, "When my _Bibi_ died I locked myself in my room for days. My mother tried to pretend everything was normal when she was actually suffering from a great depression."

"I understand," he told me.

Leonard and Jim stood up when they saw us approaching. Jim patted Spock's shoulder comfortingly and I saw a grimace flash across his face and almost smiled - Spock never understood why Jim insisted upon highfives and pats on the back.

"Lunch is on me," he said as the hoverbus pulled up and we stepped on. I smiled approvingly.

I watched the cemetery fade away in the distance before turning to the three men sitting beside me.

I liked it when the boys played nice.

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**R&R**


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